Easier to Run
by criminalxxxmindsxxxfreak
Summary: He's always running from something. Most of the time it doesn't even have anything to do with the alien hordes chasing after him. Most of the time he finds himself running from himself. Oneshot. Kind of drabble-ish and just a tiny bit angsty.


**Title: **Easier to Run

**Rating: **K+ (mostly just to be safe)

**Pairings: **None

**A/N: **So, this is kind of different from stuff that I usually write. Sort of drabble-ish and introspective. It's a songfic, which I've never done before, based on the titular Linkin Park song, "Easier to Run" which sort of just screamed Doctor Who to me.

Hope you guys enjoy! Please review!

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><p><strong>Easier to Run<strong>

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><p>He often joked about the almost offensive amount of running that was involved in his life. He was always going somewhere, running from some threat or simply just running for the hell of it. And he did it with that ever present gleam in his eyes and a smile on his face, but what he did his best to hide was that underneath all of that glib, carefree sarcasm and whit were scars that ran so deep he was sure that they would eventually kill him.<p>

_Something has been taken from deep inside of me  
>The secret I've kept locked away no one can ever see<br>Wounds so deep they never show they never go away  
>Like moving pictures in my head for years and years they've played<em>

He talked constantly, but never really _said _anything. He'd been running for years and years, trying to pretend that the images that haunted him were forgotten memories of times long past, but they always felt so very real. And so he ran, trying to put as much distance between himself and the pain as he could, continuing forward desperately trying to outrun his own nightmares. Because he didn't want to face them. He didn't want to acknowledge them; it was simpler to run away than to stand and stare into the horrible void of what was left of his soul.

_It's easier to run  
>Replacing this pain with something numb<br>It's so much easier to go  
>Than face all this pain here all alone<em>

No matter how fast he ran, or how far, it seemed his past was always there, waiting to rear its ugly head. Reminding of what he had done and all that he had lost. Moments like that gave him the briefest of pauses as he fought to wrestle the anguish inside of him back down to the deepest core of himself. Then he was running again, the wind in his hair, desperation in his stride as the rubber soles of his shoes hit the ground, keeping his past safely behind him.

Despite all the running, he never seemed to go anywhere. It was as if he was running on a treadmill, constantly moving, but remaining at a standstill. He only really had the illusion of running, trying to escape the inescapable, trying to outrun something that was a part of him. It was impossible, but he tried all the same.

_Sometimes I remember the darkness of my past  
>Bringing back these memories I wish I didn't have<br>Sometimes I think of letting go and never looking back  
>And never moving forward so there'd never be a past<em>

He knew that if he stopped running long enough, it would all catch up to him and he'd be forced to deal with all of the emotional baggage of his past. He would have to hold himself accountable to the innocent lives lost, for the destruction he so often left in his wake. It would cripple him, completely destroy him, if he were to take up all of pain he'd dropped behind him. He couldn't do it, even if he'd wanted to. And so he kept running, onward and forward, faster than ever, never pausing to look back at the trauma and ruined lives he left behind him.

_Just washing it aside  
>All of the helplessness inside<br>Pretending I don't feel misplaced  
>It's so much simpler than change<em>

He was so damaged inside, so broken, that it often amazed him that he could continue running. But no matter how long he ran, how exhausted he became, how heavily the guilt had begun to sit on his shoulders, there was always some small little incentive that kept him moving forward, that prevented him from stopping. The human race, his friends, his _family, _the people he loved… They were the reason he never stopped. He couldn't stop and take up that responsibility for the pain he'd caused, the pain he felt deep inside his hearts, not as long as there was someone who needed him, someone who loved him. Misguided or not, the Doctor would never abandon anyone that he could save.

_If I could change I would take back the pain I would  
>Retrace every wrong move that I made I would<br>If I could stand up and take the blame I would  
>I would take all my shame to the grave<em>

He was by no means an innocent, but he could not stop running. Running away from everything, from responsibility, from pain, from his past. Running toward hope, desperately seeking some illogical clemency, longing for forgiveness and always feeling unworthy of it. Rather than stand and face his retribution, he ran, far and fast. Hungrily seeking adventure and excitement to drown out the pain and the screams and the visions of fire and death and destruction that haunted him.

One day, he knew, he would be forced to stop running. One day, his race would end and he would be held accountable for all the damage that he'd inflicted. All the pain he'd suffered would come back to torment him. But not now, nor any time in the near future. Not while there was still so much adventure out there, not while the rubber soles of his shoes were still intact. Running was far easier and far less painful than looking back and seeing what he had become and all the damage he had done.

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><p><strong>AN: **Like I said, kind of drabble-ish (but really too long to be a drabble) and introspective. And also sort of sad, really.

This was written with the 10th Doctor in mind, because he seemed to run the most, literally and figuratively (and maybe a teeny bit because I loved watching him run)

Hope you guys enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!


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